


Georgia Heat

by averageclawenfangirl



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Becuase We All Need More Of That, Claire's Mom's House, Clawen, Dominant Owen, F/M, Fluffy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 19:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averageclawenfangirl/pseuds/averageclawenfangirl
Summary: Tumblr prompt: 'Claire has a lil habit of dressing very casual, but wearing mind blowing lingerie underneath. Much to Owens delight of course.'





	

**Author's Note:**

> Short, smutty and hopefully sweet. Claire's mom isn't involved. Lmao

Claire’s mom was waiting impatiently on the veranda when they arrived, arms outstretched to take their cases though Owen managed both with ease. It was the first time she’d brought him home, anxiety simmering in her stomach, though she couldn’t have hoped for better. Claire watched Miriam Dearing fall in love with him in the way she had; though Owen was often quiet and reserved, he was a master with charm; complimenting her mother’s food when she served them herbed chicken, offering to clear the dishes so she had more time with her daughter. “He’s _wonderful_ , darling,” the older woman confessed as she took Claire’s hand, Owen safely ensconced in the kitchen behind them. Claire fought to roll her eyes; Miriam knew better than to gush over a guy she’d barely met. She was right, however. He _was._

When Owen returned, her mom ushered them into the lounge, bright sunlight streaming through the windows as Miriam all but interrogated the man, Claire trying to rein her in as Owen only laughed beside her, his hand on her knee. She only wished she could tie her hair back; it fell past her ribs and she’d almost forgotten just how warm her home state had been. In a moment, Miriam had leapt from the couch; Claire bemused by her energetic energy even in the stifling Georgia heat. “I’ll go throw something together in a pitcher. The two of you _still_ look parched,” her mother said fondly, eyes crinkling with kindness as she looked toward Claire and Owen. The door to the lounge swung shut behind her, leaving the two of them alone. Claire got to her feet, the leather of the couch peeling from her thighs in a way that made her grimace, and Owen laugh as he followed her lead. 

She picked up a picture from the mantelpiece; herself at her Harvard graduation six years previously, all bright eyes and smiles. She felt Owen beside her as she smiled at the photo, blowing dust off the frame. “You look cute in that cap,” he laughed, nudging her side. “‘Bout as cute as you do right now,” Owen added, tugging her toward him and folding her close to his body. She was glad she’d had the foresight to wear a dress, the hem floating about her thighs as the loose material allowed her to breathe just that little more in the heat. “Your mom loves me,” Owen commented, and Claire rolled her eyes. “You think _everybody_ loves you,” she retorted, Owen raising his eyebrow at her words. His lips found hers in an instant before they travelled slowly over her jaw, her throat, then his teeth pulled at her earlobe gently, Claire gasping in surprise. 

“What are you _doing?!”_ She whispered as Owen’s hand dipped beneath the hem of her dress, fingers skating along her inner thighs. “Mom’ll be back through that door any _second_. I don’t think this is the way to make a good first impression,” Claire hissed, Owen’s chuckle filthy in her ear. “I haven’t been able to touch you for over _nine_ hours,” he all but growled into her hair, “and I can see your panties every time the goddamn wind blows,” he muttered through gritted teeth, stroking her through her underwear. It was a lie, they both knew it, Claire protesting as she put a hand on his arm to push him away. It was hopeless; his grip too strong on her lower back, fingers delving beneath the satin. Owen knew just where to touch her; how to have her back arching and legs shaking in a silent plea for more. She should’ve known it was coming, his palms twitchy around her even on the long flight over, green Victoria’s Secret underneath her clothes not helping the matter. 

Claire whimpered despite her best intentions, Owen swallowing the sound with his lips as they curled into a grin. “ _Owen_ ,” she moaned as he found her sweet spot and took advantage of it; she clung to him for support as the pleasure began to wash over her in deliciously unforgivable waves. “Tell me you want me to stop,” he murmured, slipping a digit inside her, Claire biting into his shoulder through his shirt to suppress the animalistic sound in her throat. She was a mess already; warm blood pooling in her belly, bangs sticking to her forehead as her chest began to heave. “Come on,” Owen teased her slowly, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

Claire’s head fell back, her eyes squeezed shut as he eased another thick finger inside her; teeth sinking into her trembling lower lip to keep herself as quiet as possible. Owen felt too _good_ to say no, working magic inside her panties, Claire coming undone in his hands. She knew she held the ultimate power, that if she’d asked him to stop, he would. But there was no way she could deny him, and Owen knew that. She was impossibly turned on; the danger of them getting caught strangely only adding to it even more as she felt him hard against her already. “Huh. Would you look at that,” Owen’s voice came laced with desire, “just as I _thought_ ,” he laughed quietly at her silence. “You’re an asshole,” Claire managed, the words almost strangled as her breathing became ragged.

She felt Owen’s grin against her throat as he sucked her skin into his mouth; the pressure sure to leave a bruise as she squirmed against him. Claire’s mind was blank save for Owen, Owen, Owen, and how he was driving her so wildly close to the edge and back again… “Claire, honey?” Miriam’s voice echoed from the kitchen down the hall; Claire swallowing thickly as Owen released her, smirk still playing across his face as she attempted to compose herself. “I’m just going to head down to the store for some strawberries. You guys want anything?” her mother asked. “No, we’re all good!” Claire answered, alarmed by the chirpiness of her voice as Owen sniggered, Claire smacking him in the chest. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Back in twenty,” Claire heard Miriam say as she shut the front door behind her, the sound echoing about the empty house. “You got lucky,” Claire shook her head at Owen, whose eyes had lit up like it was suddenly Christmas Day. “Oh, you have _no_ idea,” he winked, bending down to lift her over his shoulder. Claire yelped in initial surprise, the shock dissipating into laughter as he smacked her on the ass lightly, heading blindly toward her childhood bedroom. 


End file.
